


Dried Up in the Desert Sun

by astronaut



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Fluff, I'm shit at tagging what can I say, Loneliness, M/M, Pining, Sad Harry, Sunshine Niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:19:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astronaut/pseuds/astronaut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's drifting and Niall will always be there to catch him (even when things get bad).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dried Up in the Desert Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kimtae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimtae/gifts), [for always being wonderful](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=for+always+being+wonderful).



> this is very short but i've been loving narry more and more each day, also thoughts and reviews are always nice to get.

There's been something off about tonight for Harry ever since it started. Like the ache forming in his chest is suddenly blossoming faster, more complete. Maybe its because tonight there wasn't a concert to drown in screams or a bar to drown in alcohol. So now Harry's left floating, and it's hard to breathe, hard to think like he'll ever stop this lightheaded feeling surrounding his limbs, like helium escaped the balloons (from when Zayn and Liam decided it was time for a "real time bus party") left slowly falling to the ground and broke into his bones. His bunk keeps creaking and he can only smell his own shampoo camping inside his nostrils. He's sick of himself. Sick of hiding away from the truth and that "Louis doesn't love you anymore" that's continuing to echo his mind.

His problem is that he's always been too needy. He needs too much, too often and when Louis left (the pancakes on the stove) was when he finally realized he'd always been given what he wanted and needed. And now he's left with only a life jacket but needs a boat, and not just a fucking boat, a ship. Which a bunch of fucking irony, isn't it? And no matter who he blames to make himself feel better, he knows it was truly his own fault for pushing Louis away. He couldn't help himself from wanting more and more of Louis, it's hard for him to realize there's only so much he can have. 

Tonight is especially bad because with pure habit lacing his fingers he keeps reaching out for Louis; for his arm, stomach, lips or anything. Coming up with nothing but empty cold sheets and one less pillow. Last tour these nights were their favorite, because they could sneak back to the couch and watch stupid romance movies while the others slept at four in the morning. But he tries not to remember that, (or how Louis looks first thing in the morning).

There's dust in his chest and cotton in his mouth and he's needs a walk or a talk, but the bus is still fucking moving and all the other boys are blessed with sleep so--wait.

There's one large window in the back of the bus where the lounging area is set up. Zayn always smokes out this window, and Harry decides it must be a good one to get fresh air too. But the cold wind doesn't change anything, mostly because they're in the middle of fucking Tennessee and the air is hot, only turning cool by impact. But he stays there, on the couch that looks too big without the rest of them piling on top of it.

"Harry."

And Niall's there, with beady eyes, leaning against the wall with his American flag tank top and grey sweat pants. His hair is messy and there's creases from his pillow on his cheek.

"Niall," Harry's smile is wider than the pancakes Louis left to burn and suddenly he thinks things are alright.

Niall smiles back because that's what he always does, and he tugs on Harry's hand until he stands. He brings him back to the bunks, without a second thought, pushes him up the metal ladder to his own bed. The tiny window is pushed out, and there's more pillows than Harry has and it doesn't smell like cherry shampoo and he thinks this will be just fine.

Harry's eyelids are already falling faster then they have in weeks, and Niall's already scooting him into his side. The space is tight with two people but that's not a problem really, just gives an excuse for Harry trying his hardest to fill in his dusty spaces with _niallniallniallniall_ and Niall letting him.

Because he knows Harry gives, gives and gives. He knows Harry takes, takes and takes. Niall knows he's just what Harry needs tonight when he's drowning in himself instead of the usual martini.

Harry's chest isn't so heavy anymore, and his bones aren't so light. He can only smell Niall's cologne and whatever fresh air makes it through the opened window. His skin isn't itching anymore, and his legs aren't restless. Niall must be an angel, Harry thinks. Because he is. 

And when he looks up at Niall right before his eyes close, he sees just what he needs.

An anchor.


End file.
